I'm working on it
by Amnefarius
Summary: Adrian Andrews visits Luke Atmey late at night in order to discuss the case. He ruins his facade, causing him to punish her.


[M[Luke Atmey x Adrian Andrews[Hetero[Alcohol[Language[Mild AU[Bondage[Humiliation[Reluctance[Lime.

Disclaimer: I do not own Phoenix Wright or the respective characters mentions hereafter. This is fictional story (obviously) and involves characters acting in what may or may not be out of character. Alcohol is major plot element, as is a craving for inappropriate work relations.

Adrian Andrews drove her car through the deluge to the apartment where Luke Atmey stayed. He phoned her, wanting to ask her more questions about the missing urn. She did not know what to think of him calling her at one AM, but she wished to be of much help as possible.  
_Whatever that entails...__  
_She drove into the parking lot of the apartment complex, going into room 2634.

Rum bottles lined the room, showing off Atmey's vice of choice. Adrian heard an animalistic growling from the bathroom, followed by breaking bottles.  
_Please don't be in a drunken rage; please don't be in a drunken rage!_  
A very drunk, very scantily clad Atmey stumbled out of the bathroom; he was followed by the wafting smell of booze. He slurred his words as he addressed Adrian.

"Aaadrian...whaaat arrre you dooing herre?"

"You called me, remember? You wanted more   
information about the urn, right?"  
"Thaaat's sillyyy. I allreeady knoooow wheeere the uuuuuurn izzz!"  
"You already know? Why haven't you told the police?!"  
"Cuuuz I haave eet riight herre!" Atmey pulled a disheveled box from under his bed. "Thee uuuurn izz riiight heerre!" Adrian was appalled.  
"YOU HAD IT??" She screamed at him, throwing bottle after bottle at him. One hit him, sobering him up. His eyes fell on his revealed secret. He lunged at her, clutching her shoulders. He shook her, repeating:  
"You didn't see anything! Get out of here! Get out you stupid girl!" Atmey forcefully threw her to the floor; her body bounced once. Adrian Andrews lay unconscious in the apartment of the urn thief.

Adrian awoke, tied to the bed. She panicked.  
"Atmey! Luke! Please stop! I won't tell anyone! Let me go!" He stood at the foot of the bed, a full bottle of rum in his hand. The fat man on the label grinned at her, wanting to know what was going to happen next.  
"I can't do that, Adrian. You know my secret." Adrian knew this was the end; she was going to die here, in front of an audience of pirates. He opened the bottle, taking a swig before pouring the warm booze on her body. The humiliating liquid made her white oxford see-through, revealing her pink corset.  
"Do you like that? Do you enjoy this humiliation, my darling?" Atmey laughed at the tears welling up in Adrian's eyes. He thought it was because of the debasement, but Adrian really cried because she was enjoying it. She wanted to be made this man's object. She shut her eyes, trying to block out this revelation.  
He screamed at her; the loud storm outside preventing neighbors from hearing.  
"What are you doing? Open your eyes! LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME!" She did as she was commanded. The man she hired stood over her, glistening like a reincarnated Bacchus. Atmey saw the lust in her eyes, bending down over her to lick his sweet drink from her neck.  
"Luke...don't stop." He continued-- his tongue swathing up her neck-- reaching its destination are her mouth. Adrian tasted his rum-laden breath in her mouth, knowing that this will be going where she wanted it to.

Adrian listening to the radio on the drive home, knowing that Atmey would be finishing his prison sentence today. He's been in prison for nine months, receiving a lighter sentence because of a temporary sanity plea. It was all lie. She grabbed the paper bag from the backseat as she went inside. Adrian knew he would be stopping be tonight, so she bought him his favorite rum, the one with a fat pirate man. She set the bottle on the counter, making her way to the bedroom in order to set the stage for tonight. Her voyeur in the kitchen would make the best audience.


End file.
